Behind again: Proper 18

Proper 18B 09/09/2012

Mark 7:24-37

Jesus set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. He said to her, "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." But she answered him, "Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs." Then he said to her, "For saying that, you may go-- the demon has left your daughter." So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.

Then he returned from the region of Tyre, and went by way of Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis. They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, "Ephphatha," that is, "Be opened." And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. They were astounded beyond measure, saying, "He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak."

 

Today, I’d like to talk about something else that is important to any Christian community.  Part of my vocation as a priest and as a preacher is to reflect on and relate the world and the church. Something I read earlier this week really caught my eye.

It was along the lines of “In order to grow, churches have to die.”

Well, that is a headline that will catch the attention of anyone who works in the church – and honestly, should catch the attention of anyone who worships in a church.  When you read a bit further, it did make sense – and it makes sense in terms of today’s epistle and gospel lessons, one which are full of import for us – and for those outside the church.

Have you ever noticed that the deaf mute in this morning’s gospel was brought by his friends?  He did not come on his own.  I wonder if the friends had to drag him to Jesus.  Perhaps they couldn’t figure out how to tell him where they were going.  But they loved him enough to take him to the Teacher who could possible heal him. 

And he’s the only deaf mute who is healed in the Gospels. 

It’s important to remember that in Jesus’ time, people with handicaps were considered to be sinners and therefore unclean. His friends loved him enough to risk that his uncleanness would contaminate him and take him to Jesus.

And the SyroPhoenician woman – she too is unclean. She’s both a woman and a non-Jew, so you could say that she has a double disability in the eyes of some in Jesus’ time.  She doesn’t care – what she does care about is her child. 

What a risk she took. And at first, it did look as if she was going to be dismissed. Jesus points out that he did not come for the likes of her. Brazenly, she rebuts him, speaking of crumbs. She’ll take anything. We will never know if her words were what changed Jesus’ mind or if he intended to heal the child all along and was testing her perseverance.

One of the things I always wonder about in the Gospels is exactly who it is who is blind, or deaf, or in some way disabled or on the margins.

Unfortunately, more often than not today the deaf and blind folks are the ones already in the churches.

Yes, that’s what that headline was all about.

You see, the world has changed, and is changing around us, and we have been deaf and blind to those changes.

I’m not talking about changing the Gospels. I’m talking about changing us – so that we meet the ones who need to hear the gospel where they are –

Yes, where THEY are, not where we are.

 John Donohue, a New Testament scholar, says that a church that is to witness to the example of Jesus must be partial to “those who are bowed down” and through its healing presence give a voice to the voiceless.  And when we give voice to the voiceless, we give them back their humanity as God’s own beloved.

And who are the most voiceless in our community?

The most important group of voiceless ones are the ones who are not here.  They are the ones who do not know the love of Christ, because no one has spoken the good news of the Gospel to them. There are others – children, seniors, handicapped, the sick, the shut-ins, those who live in fear, fear of aloneness or illness or a number of other fears. 

We need to be listening to them and listening for them.  That’s what Jesus died for.

When I was in m seminary, I spent about a month in San Antonio, doing Spanish language immersion.  The program I was in was Roman Catholic, and I was the only “Protestant Girl”, as they called me. So on Sundays, I looked for my people – the Episcopalians!

One church was so focused on themselves, that the newbies like me, and there were others, were totally ignored. It was quite an interesting coffee hour, standing there by myself. Of course, I finally left. They did not know I was in seminary, they did not know if I was the person they were looking for to head one of their ministries, they did not know me as a person – because I never had a name there.

Here’s the interesting thing:  I don’t remember the name of that church.  I just remember them as the navel-gazing church.

The second place, I was welcomed as I walked in the door, I had someone sit near me to make sure I was familiar with the BCP, I got a gift at the close of the service, and somebody had made sure to tell the Rector my name – and when he found out why I was in San Antonio, he did invite me to lunch, which unfortunately, I couldn’t do. Guess what – I remember the name of  that church and I’ll go there again if I am every in town. I can’t ever recall being quite so welcome, even among folks who already knew me.

What a thought!

I’ve heard church growth specialists say that if a church is entirely focused on growth, it’s already dying.

I think that’s sort of right and sort of wrong.

It’s the navel-gazing, the self-focus that is deadly.

Instead, we should focus on the why of growth.

You and I ARE called to evangelize the world and bring folks to know the saving love of Jesus, but where does that fit into church growth?   Are we interested in growth only for the sake of keeping the doors open, or are we interested in growth because Jesus died for us and others need to know that?

Are we interested in what the voiceless ones have to say, or do we only care that they start to mimic us?

Are there other ways we exclude the voiceless ones, marking them as outsiders?

Are we deaf and blind to the needs they might have, as they walk in our doors?

Is growth the only way we identify a healthy congregation?  

Or is it more important to witness to Christ, in our living and perhaps even in our dying?

I’ve seen it in other places. 

Start living the Gospel, and people are attracted by it.

Live the Gospel by listening, and people know they are valued. 

Live the Gospel by celebrating the Eucharist.  Simple, huh? Break bread together.

Live the Gospel by not just feeding the poor but inviting them to church.

Live the Gospel by making sure everyone feels like an insider, not an outsider.

Live the Gospel by asking   IS THIS WHAT JESUS DIED FOR?

That focus on what Jesus died for leads to growth, I am convinced. 

Not just growth in numbers, but growth in discipleship and fellowship.

He died for the people, not the official church records of who is here and who is not.  And he didn’t care how they got to him, just that they came.  He also didn’t care that they were outcasts, or Samaritans, or sinners. 

I’ve seen a video with of a listening session with 18 young adults, aged 18-30, all about why they did and did not attend church. The biggest thing they asked for was acceptance. Acceptance for the way they looked, they way they talked, and the way they felt called to do ministry.  They wanted to be heard and not talked down to, to find places in the church’s life of ministry that were of value, not just make-work to keep them present on Sundays. 

One young woman even said that she was far more willing to work in the church’s soup kitchen on Saturday than she was to attend worship on Sunday. 

I also heard many of them say that they felt voiceless in church.  And I sat there thinking that those folks aged 18-30 are no different from those under 18 and those of us well over 18.   We just want to be accepted the way we are, and feel that we are valued, and can make a difference in this world.

Often we could make a good start by knowing their names.

I don’t have an ending for this sermon, and that’s intentional. I offer this sermon was a way to get us all thinking about the focus of all our ministries here in the communities where we live and worship.

And when we do that, I think that growth will take care of itself.